


You'll Never Know

by bastet_lives



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: 5 + 1 format, AU after CA:WS, Artist Steve, Avengers as family, Avengers having basically adopted Peter Parker, Bucky singing a lot and dancing with Steve, Cuddling, Dancing, Kissing, M/M, Post-Serum Steve Rogers, Pre-Serum Steve Rogers, Sick Steve, Singing, Slow Dancing, Steve POV, a lot of (old) songs, bucky pov, getting together off-screen, outsider Pov (twice), pining on both sides
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-14
Updated: 2020-07-14
Packaged: 2021-03-04 18:01:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,106
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25240540
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bastet_lives/pseuds/bastet_lives
Summary: Five times Bucky sang for Steve as they danced together without realizing they are both in love with each other. And the one time they sang to each other while being fully aware of their love.
Relationships: James "Bucky" Barnes & Steve Rogers, James "Bucky" Barnes/Steve Rogers, Sam Wilson/Clint Barton/Laura Barton (hinted at), Steve Rogers & Tony Stark (hinted at), past James "Bucky" Barnes/Natasha Romanov (mentioned)
Comments: 6
Kudos: 46
Collections: Marvel Undercover 2020





	You'll Never Know

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you to [Nightpeltofthethunderclan](https://archiveofourown.org/users/NightpeltofThunderclan/pseuds/NightpeltofThunderclan) for looking this over me.
> 
> Music Notes can be found at the end if the links in the section numbers I, II, III ... don't work.
> 
> Also, this was for Prompt 59, which basically asked for Bucky singing for Steve and them dancing.
> 
> The title comes from You'll never know by Vera Lynn (link in end notes)

[ \- I -  ](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=xqYJjA4aYXM)

The woman reading the poem on the radio had a lovely voice. It helped that the Barnes’ radio didn’t whiten out every couple seconds unlike theirs – Steve liked to whine about that.

Sarah’s eyes hushed over to her son. She smiled as she watched James lean into him and whisper into his ear with flailing arms and shining eyes. James was much bigger than Steve, after all. Her poor boy was thin as a rake. He was also recovering from a fever. Whenever he shivered or swayed, she wanted to swaddle him into thick blankets, press out a lemon and make him some effervescent lemonade. But – he’d hate that.

Sighing, Sarah observed James’ head snapping up and a grin spreading on his face. The gap between the boy’s teeth was particularly charming.

“That boy, he’s such a charmer – he’s gonna be a Sheik, trust me.”

Sarah flinched before turning to Winifred. Winifred was smiling at their sons, loop-sided with a mischievous glint in her eyes – the same glint James often had playing in his eyes. Like mother, like son, she guessed.

“That’s a horrible thing to say about your son, Wini.”

“Ha! Don’t think so. It’s the truth, sweet pea. I’m saying it now – that boy will have so many dumb Doras crushing on him. Poor girls!” Winifred shook her head with mocking compassion for those future girls. “He’s gonna be a charmer but he’s also already stuck on someone.”

The look Winifred sent Sarah spoke volumes – volumes Sarah didn’t want to read or comprehend. She looked over to Steve again and the way James was practically glued to his back, whispering into Steve’s ear. Steve was smiling, just a shy upturn of his lips, his face full of color. It was a wonderful sight – especially compared to the pale whiteness of his face last week – but Sarah’s heart clenched in fear.

Personally, she had nothing against those with a temperamental nature but their lives were so very hard. She didn’t want such a life for her son, not when she already saw the signs how hard his life was going to be. There hadn’t been one year yet, in which he didn’t fall ill at least five times.

“You don’t know that,” Sarah murmured to Winifred, again just watching as James tugged up Steve. By now, the radio had ended its poetry program and music was playing through the room. It was an admittedly catchy tune, cheery and very suited for dancing. James must have thought that as well because he beamed at her son.

And then he started singing, high voice surprisingly smooth. “ Five foot two, eyes of blue, oh, what those five feet could do: has anybody seen my gal? ...“

“Buuck,” her son whined, even though he flushed red. “I’ll get bigger.”

“You sure, pal? But, you fit perfectly in my arms, look!”

James just grabbed Steve and started to sway them, her son awkwardly stumbling after him and giggling. Then James fell in with the voice on the radio again, obviously singing for Steve, to Steve.

It was sweet, too sweet.

“Looka that, Sarah. My boy is singing for yours. That’s our love language, sweet pea, Barnes like to sing to our loves.”

“Winnie ...” Sarah didn’t know what to say. Winifred was so convinced James was crushing on Steve. Looking at them, Sarah knew she was right. Their boys looked right together, swinging and swaying, leaning on each other. Her heart clenched again.

“Why, just last week, George crooned a song while I was in the kitchen. It was adorable, him grabbing me and just slow dancing me through the kitchen. He was just singing ‘March winds and April showers’ in the sweetest of voices ...” Winifred trailed off, happiness and joy quietly radiating off her.

Sarah’s heart clenched again, robbing her of her breath. While Sarah didn’t begrudge Winifred’s happy marriage, she envied her. That had been her and Joe once, almost a decade ago.

Winifred shook her head. “Anyway, trust me, Barnes men love showing their love through song and dance.”

“They’re just seven and eight.”

“Doesn’t matter,” Winifred laughed. “Love finds you when it does, whether you’re five or fifty, true love anyway. This is it.”

With an ache in her bones, Sarah followed Wini’s indulgent eyes. Their sons were slow-dancing, James still crooning ‘Five foot two, eyes of blue’ to Steve, their young faces giddy with happiness.

Sarah hoped. She hoped that James would love her son and that this love wouldn’t break them.

She hoped it would be enough.

[ \- II - ](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=e4YaF-jESkY)

His Ma hadn’t even stopped speaking to him, her hand gently on his cheeks, before Bucky shot up and out of their house. He ran, ran until his lungs were burning until he was in front of the Rogers flat. Almost keeling over, he had to take a few deep, gulping breaths. As soon as he caught it, he knocked at the door.

Nothing happened for a couple of minutes. The only thing Bucky registered was the closed door in front of him, marred by deep scratches and old dirt, and the roaring in his ears, thumping in beat with his heart.

Just as he lifted his hand to knock again – maybe he should really drill his hand against the wood – the door opened. Mrs Rogers looked at him, her cheeks gaunt and flushed. She was attempting to smile at him, the way adults do when they wanted to pretend everything was fine and dandy. But her smile was a brittle thing. The blue eyes she shared with Stevie were dull.

“James, what are you doing here?” She fidgeted with her hands, threading her fingers and untangling them. She also was already clad in her uniform, the skirt of her off-white nurse uniform creased and unkept.

“You gotta go to work, Ma’am?” He asked, rudely, fully knowing that had his Ma heard him, she’d spank him.

“Well,” Mrs Rogers dithered before hanging her head. “I have to.”

“Who’s looking after Stevie?”

Something crossed her face. Bucky didn’t know what it was. He didn’t care much for it.

“I can’t stay any longer at home, James.” She said as though she wasn’t intending to leave Stevie on his own, sick as a dog. Or on the cusp of his death, if Bucky understood what his Ma had told him correctly. Bucky couldn’t believe Mrs Rogers would leave Stevie’s side when he was like that. There was no way, though, that Bucky would allow Stevie to be alone.

“I’ll stay. You go to work and I won’t leave Stevie alone.”

Mrs Rogers looked as though he had slapped her. Bucky wouldn’t do that, his Ma and Pa had raised him better than that. Then she sighed, her entire body slumping forward and swaying. A pang of guilt wormed itself inside of Bucky.

Maybe he shouldn’t be so hard on her. Looking at her again, Bucky realized that she looked like death warmed over, too. A gust of wind could blip her off, she was that thin. Mrs Rogers never had had much meat on her bones but now she was one step away from being a skeleton with skin.

“You don’t need to worry! I’m going to take care of Stevie, good care!”

“That’s not what I’m worried about, dear.” With another sigh, she shook her head and stared at him before her eyes flitted down. She gasped.

Grabbing his arm, she dragged him inside and to the bathroom. She only managed to do so because she surprised Bucky. Before he knew what happened, she had a wet rag in her hands and was bent down to gently dab at the bottom of his feet. A strangled hiss escaped him as pain burned through his body.

“You stupid boy, what did you do, run through half Brooklyn without shoes?”

“Huh, I did,” Bucky realized under her scolding gaze. He stayed silent while she wrapped a couple of bandages around his feet. One thing that amused Bucky was that there never was a shortage of bandages in the Rogers household. Stevie was too much of stubborn punk.

“I’ll leave him in your hand,” Mrs Rogers suddenly said. “You understand? I’ll leave him in your hands.”

The way she stared at him sent goosebumps down his spine. Bucky knew somehow that she didn’t only mean now, but for a long time. She trusted him with her son, with Stevie. This moment felt tremendous. It was almost like Stevie was a dame and Mrs Rogers was giving Bucky Stevie’s hand in marriage.

Bucky nodded, silent and solemn.

Mrs Rogers spent a couple more seconds staring him straight into the eyes before she also nodded and heaved herself up. “You know where everything is. I’m going to inform your mother where you are. You’ll be spending the night?”

“I’m staying till you get home, ma’am.”

Mrs Rogers looked at him again before turning around and cleaning up the bandages and the rag with quick fingers. “He’s in his room. Take care of him for me, please.”

_ I’m taking care of Steve for me _ , he thought but didn’t say as he scrambled off to Stevie’s room. Bucky had already resolved to not be so hard on Mrs Rogers. Stevie also didn’t like it when Bucky snubbed his mother. To Bucky’s defence, he rarely did. He only did it to watch Stevie bluster and puff up, in fact.

When Bucky opened the door to Stevie’s room, he had to blink a couple of times. It was enveloped in almost complete darkness. Mrs Rogers must have hung any fabric she had over the windows to blot out the light. Once Bucky’s eyes got used to the dark, the first thing he spied was Steve.

And Bucky wanted to cry.

In the midst of ratty blankets, which were pushed into some kind of nest, and enveloped by scarves and more ratty blankets Stevie looked tiny, tinier and more fragile than a bird. Stevie’s face was pale and even gaunter than his mother’s face. The worst thing, though, was the rattling of Steve’s breath. It was fast and ragged. Every couple breaths it would stop for a couple seconds and start again.

Bucky wanted to cry. Instead he took a deep breath and stepped forward. He sank next to Stevie’s nest and put his hand on Stevie’s forehead. It was sweaty but a dry kind of sweaty. And hot, sweltering hot.

“Heya pal,” Bucky whispered. It felt right to whisper and he didn’t expect an answer. But Stevie was a stubborn fella and never failed to surprise.

“Hullo, Buck,” Steve slurred with barely open eyes, a thin crust nearly sealing them shut.

“Jeez, what a lay-a-bout you are,” Bucky gently teased. Hopefully this would help. Maybe a bit of normality would help cure Stevie? (Bucky didn’t believe that himself.)

Steve crowed, a painfully scratchy laugh escaping him. It was a short laugh as a full-body shiver rattled through his bones. He coughed, hacking noises that made Bucky flinch. Unfortunately, Stevie noticed despite his state.

“Dun need ya here, go home.”

“Yeah, sure, I’ll do that, pal.”

They both knew it was a lie but Stevie couldn’t argue. Whatever energy he had, had been sapped away by the coughing fit. Stevie closed his eyes and hissed out harsh breaths.

Noon came and went. Bucky stayed at Stevie’s side, rubbing soothing circles against sharp collarbones. Sometimes, when Bucky was entirely sure that Steve was too deep in his fever sleep, he’d rake his hands through Steve’s hair. A couple of times Bucky stood up, soaked a rag in cold water and put it onto Steve’s forehead.

Once Bucky even tried making a home remedy he had watched his mother make for his sisters. Thankfully, the Rogers had lemon, garlic and onions, even though not much of the latter two. If Bucky hadn’t been afraid of leaving Stevie all alone in the flat, he might have run home and sneaked a spoon or two of honey. As it was, Bucky was sure he left something to steep for too long. Still, Steve obediently sipped it up when Bucky roused him.

These hours besides Stevie were frightening and for the first time ever, Bucky thought about what would happen if Stevie died. He hadn’t ever thought about that before, too certain that Stevie was too stubborn to slip into the Big Sleep. That certainty had wavered in the darkness with only Stevie’s fragile breath for company. Bucky feared those moments when silence domineered the darkness and he didn’t even have Stevie’s breath.

If Stevie died, Bucky’s life would be bleak. He didn’t know how he’d go on.

In the evening, Bucky made a snap decision. He unwrapped Stevie from his covers with delicate motions. Taking Stevie into his arms felt right but – Stevie was much too light.

While dragging Stevie into the living room, Bucky promised himself that he’d put some meat on Steve’s bones. He didn’t know how yet, but he would. Bird bones were too fragile for his Stevie to have.

The evening sun threw spotty shades into the living room. The sky was less blue and more a mix of grey, violet and orange. That was fine. Stevie hanging limp in his arms was also fine.

Taking a deep breath, Bucky started to hum and sway. He ensured that Stevie was safe in his arms with no danger of slipping out of them. Then he opened his mouth and sang.

“Blue skies smiling at me, nothing but blue skies do I see,” Bucky cooed, pressing Stevie closer to his chest. “Bluebirds singing a song, nothing but blue skies from now on …“

A weak grip circled one of his wrists and he looked down. Steve was staring up at Bucky with a loopy smile.

“Pretty. Livin’ canary, you are,” Stevie murmured making no move to get out of Bucky’s arms.

“Only for you, punk, only for you.”

Steve snorted, closing his eyes as his breaths evened out. He rested his head on Bucky’s chest.

_ This _ , Bucky thought, _ this is a moment I’ll cherish for the rest of my time on Earth and never forget. _

  
  


[ \- III - ](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=dbIyrjVvA2o)

Stever never quite knew whether he should resent Bucky for following him to Brooklyn College or not. On one hand, Bucky was a constant, had been since he was young. Steve liked having Bucky near him. On the other hand, Steve knew very well that Bucky didn’t like creating – or rather, he didn’t like creating  _ art _ .

Bucky loved math, he always had. Steve wasn’t too bad at it. Geometry could make really pretty patterns, in fact. But math in general? He found no pleasure in numbers. Where Steve only saw numbers, however, Bucky saw possibilities and beauty.

The one time Steve had asked Bucky to explain, Bucky had flailed his arms around, his body full of energy and passion, and had launched right into a triade. Most of what Bucky had said, had flown over Steve’s head. He had been captivated by Bucky’s movements and gestures.

That night he had sketched Bucky on the last page of his sketchbook. Steve had sketched Bucky by the light of a candle, always checking whether the light or the scratching of his pencil woke Bucky up. Steve had sketched with cheeks flaming and had ended up with an indecent picture. Oh, Bucky had been clothed and the subject matter had been innocent. But something in the gesture or in the eyes … Steve couldn’t help getting hard from what he had drawn.

It had flagged quickly like it was wont to do but it had happened.

Anyway, Bucky loved math much more than art. He could have gone to Brooklyn Tech. Steve imagined they’d have welcomed his mind there, they would have been stupid not to.

But because Steve went to Brooklyn College for its liberal arts and humanities, Bucky refused to go to Brooklyn Tech. Bucky’s protective instincts regarding Steve had robbed Bucky of the opportunity of his life.

Then again, Bucky hardly went to his classes, too busy with various jobs to keep up the rent and provide the two of them with food. He also rejected any notions of Steve cutting classes. Bucky always told Steve he should concentrate on his art – he was already earning quite the nickel with it, after all.

(What Bucky didn’t know was that only about a third of the money Steve gave him for food and rent came from his art. The other two third he earned by using his fairy looks … and skills.)

Today was one of the few occasions that Bucky accompanied Steve to one of their art classes. It was one of their anatomy classes with live models. The girl sat in the middle of the room, white bodice to preserve her dignity.

The teacher always turned on the radio when there were live models present. To give them something to listen to, she had explained when asked.

Halfway through the class, the program cut off. An announcement was played that changed Steve’s life because he knew, he just knew that he’d lose Bucky over this.

It was the 7 th December, 1941, and the United States was at war.

Their teacher let them go with pale lips and her eyes hushing over all the men in the class. It was a sensible decision. No one was paying attention anymore.

Going home proved to be a tense affair. Bucky was walking by his side, not saying a word. He didn’t speak while they got groceries for a simple dinner. Not one word came out of him while they were preparing dinner or eating. After they had washed the dishes and put them away, they kept standing in the kitchen.

“Tomorrow we gonna find you an apartment you can pay on your own. I don’t know how much I’ll make in the army, especially while in training.”

“You don’t have to enlist.”

Bucky threw him a look.

Steve closed his eyes. It had been worth a try.

“Punk, we both know it’s not an option. I sign up now, it’s on my terms with better chances. I get drafted, I’ll have to deal with ma cards.”

“Still,...” Bucky was right but it would mean more time away from home for him. More time away from Steve, that was. Unless …

“I could enlist with you.”

“No.”

Bucky’s immediate refusal cut Steve deep. That hurt quickly turned to anger – which Bucky anticipated, of course.

“Punk, we both know that your Mom alone is enough grounds for you to not get accepted.” Bucky didn’t add the whole trouble with Steve’s arsenal of sicknesses and diseases. As though that could soften the blow he dealt with his words! His mom was a wound that still ached despite it having been years.

“Let’s talk about something else. Oh, I know! You’ll have to find some gals on your own now. Take them out dancing and neck a bit.”

As far as Steve was concerned, they weren’t finished yet with enlisting talk but he allowed Bucky this. Bucky was protective. Objectively, Steve had less chance to survive a war while fighting in it.

“Yeah, how about no, Buck. Dames don’t like me. I can’t dance?”

“Oh, you can’t?” A hint of mischief lit up Bucky’s face before he pressed close to Steve. Grabbing his hands, Bucky started to whistle and twirl Steve around. Steve stumbled after him, his heart going crazy and his breath getting shorter.

His protests faded as Bucky sang.

“Here goes, looks like I 'm falling, call me devil-may care …”

Steve’s breath hitched. That was a love song, wasn’t it? He was used to hearing it in Sinatra’s smooth voice but he liked the song more in Bucky’s rougher one.

Bucky was twirling Steve around in their small kitchen, dancing and singing to him. It was enough to make a fella hope. But it might also be Bucky being a good best friend.

For all his attitude and fearlessness in challenging men thrice his size, Steve would never risk alienating Bucky. Not when Bucky was all that Steve had left …

“Jerk,” Steve hissed. “You’re using me as a girl here.”

“Well, pal, you’re small and feisty, yeah, a gal,” Bucky laughed and kept his hands on Steve.

Steve loved Bucky’s laughter. He hoped it would never fade from his mind.

[ \- IV - ](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=IJt9PU9rC04)

Being home again had been nice, more than nice actually. Steve was home.

Bucky had missed Steve for the almost two years he’d been gone. When Bucky had sweated and bled during training, he’d thought of Steve and his never-give-up attitude. It would give him the strength to struggle to his feet and continue on. After Bucky had been promoted to Sergeant, he’d kept thinking ‘what would Stevie do?’ and led his men accordingly. When Bucky had been lying in the dirt, his scope aimed at some Kraut, he’d hoped that Steve wouldn’t mind Bucky killing if it was to protect Bucky’s men.

In short, Steve had been on Bucky’s mind every second while he was gone. Bucky had also fretted the whole time.

Would Steve be able to earn enough money to keep their little hole-in-the-wall-flat? (Bucky had sent all the money he earned to Steve to help pay the rent.)

Would Steve get sick? (Bucky had asked his sister to keep track of Steve. Once she had married and moved, he had had no way of knowing whether Steve survived the winter or not beyond Steve’s letters. That winter had worried Bucky more than being in the middle of a war zone.)

Would Steve keep writing to Bucky? (He had.)

Would Steve find some dame and wait for Bucky to be there in person to announce it? (That had been one of Bucky’s biggest fears, actually. Steve was amazing. It was ineffable to him how no bird had snapped Steve up yet.)

Needless to say, that the announcement that they were going home for a little while had been very welcome to Bucky.

And coming home to Steve had been  _ wonderful _ . Steve had been waiting at the train station, holding up a sign with the Alps during a sunset painted onto it. And the words ‘Jerk’s been lost there. When found, please return him to home’. It had sent Bucky into a laughing fit, right on the platform. The other people had stared at him like he was crazy. But Steve’s elated grin had been worth it to Bucky.

Unfortunately, his home stay hadn’t been that light-hearted all the time.

Bucky had found out about two things, which worried him in two different ways. The first was that since Bucky had left Brooklyn, Steve hadn’t even been on one date. Bucky had heard the neighbors

gossiping that Steve certainly had the fairy build, although he didn’t seem swishy at all. Then again Steve was pursuing a career in  _ art _ .

Enough said for those blabber mouths.

That was why Bucky had worked hard to procure a date for Steve. But either Steve had claimed to have no time or the girls excused themselves fast, when they showed up at all, that was. With a weird smile, Steve had told him that no bird would say to Bucky. But it was easy to say no to a thin stick with breathing problems, he had added.

That hadn’t deterred Bucky. He had started organizing double dates.

Unfortunately, Steve had been right. The girls had stayed. They hadn’t paid any attention to Steve, however. Bucky’s traitorous heart had bounced around in joy at that fact.

Even the double date from earlier this evening went along these lines. Bucky had dragged them all to the Stark Expo, hoping to make the evening before he was shipped out special. One of those girls had said she had interest in art! Bucky had thought for sure that she and Steve would hit it off.

But Bucky had lost Steve in the crowd and found him again stepping out of  _ yet another recruiting centre. _

This was the second thing he had found out. Since Bucky had been shipped off to training and then war, Steve had been trying to get recruited.

Steve had not once mentioned those efforts in any of the letters he had sent to Bucky. Most likely because he had known how Bucky would react.

Badly.

It was bad enough that Bucky had to head into war zones, had to lose bits and pieces of himself in every skirmish. It was bad enough that Bucky had to listen to men he’d been laughing with hours ago scream as they bled out. It was bad enough that Bucky had to stare into the jaws of death every time he fought.

It would be worse knowing Steve was out there doing the same. It would be worse spending each second of his life in fear of receiving the news that Steve had been killed. Or not receiving the news and believing Steve was still alive when he wasn’t.

False hope hurt more than reality, Bucky had learned. Nurses had claimed one of his men would survive the night after being wounded but  _ hadn’t _ too often.

Also, Bucky’s faith in humanity had been chipped away with every day he spent as a soldier. Seeing the atrocities the Krauts wreaked, observing how some of the higher ups lived in the lap of luxury while letting the troops go hungry. Oh, they weren’t starved. In fact, Bucky might be eating more than ever before but the quality of the food was on par with gutter food.

While Steve wasn’t pure – he certainly appeared that way, it had been great to get the two of them out of trouble – he was still burning with ideals. He still thought there was good in people. And that was something that Bucky had started doubting.

Well, except Steve. Steve was good, though, he was also a stubborn idiot who insisted on doing stuff that would kill him. Like trying to get recruited to fight in a war he wasn’t physically able to fight in.

Bucky wouldn’t have been as furious as he was if Steve had accepted the first no. But then he had to try again, and again falsifying documents. Bucky wasn’t sure if Steve realized it but that was punishable – by law.

Thankfully, the aged recruiter, which Bucky had found Steve with, hadn’t seemed liable to report Steve. Steve also had assured him that everything was fine and he wouldn’t take another shot at faking documents.  _ Finally. _

Since arriving home, however, Steve hadn’t said a word. He had just walked stiffly besides Bucky.

This was not how Bucky wanted the last evening to go. He racked his brain for getting the evening back on track when he had the perfect idea.

“Hey, Punk.”

Turning to Bucky, Steve flipped him off.

Chuckling, Bucky continued. “Promise me something, would you?”

Steve sighed, his bony shoulders lifting to his ears and then falling down, unnecessarily dramatic. “Yes, I won’t try my luck getting into the army in another recruitment center.”

“Not what I wanted you to promise but I’m glad you did. No, promise me you’ll go dance with a gal?”

“No one wants to.” Steve shook his head, his breath stuttering in his chest. “Besides, I can’t dance, jerk.”

With a mischievous smile, Bucky swaggered over to Steve and gathered him in his arms. As Steve groaned and Bucky laughed.

“Noo, you jerk, don’t do this.”

Like Bucky was going to listen. He twirled Steve around, beginning to sing. And though Steve kept swearing at him, he didn’t struggle. Just like when Bucky did this before shipping out the first time.

Throwing his head out, Bucky sang and for one moment, just one moment, he  _ pretended _ . “I’m a fiend for romance with you ...”

Just as he was about to finish that line, Steve joined in. “Mellow little fella, you’re mine.”

Steve’s face was completely red but he kept jumping in for the usual female voice. Together, Steve and Bucky finished the song. The closer to the end they got, the slower Bucky swirled Steve around. When silence fell around them, they were standing in the middle of the living room, hugging each other.

Bucky wanted to kiss Steve. It would be so easy. He’d just have to lean down and kiss off that breathless smile. Steve’s lips would be chapped since the punk smoked too many cigars, even though they were good for him. They would drag along Bucky’s lips so nicely …

“You’re such a jerk,” Steve said, struggling out of Bucky’s arms.

As though someone had thrown a bucket of freezing water over his head, Bucky realized he had missed his moment. His arms hung in the air awkwardly for one more moment before they sank down. He kept the smile on his face as he forced himself to tease Steve.

“Pal, don’t quit your day job.”

“What, don’t like my singing voice?” Steve bared his teeth, fierce and pig-headed and everything that Bucky loved.

“It’s not your best trait,” Bucky responded instead of saying what was on his mind.

Sometimes he really wished he was Steve’s.

[ \- V - ](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=CeE1RnXJDiI)

“Alright. Enjoy the evening, tomorrow we’re going to be in the thick of it!”

The Commandos cheered and walloped before trickling out of the tent. Steve listened to them chattering and laughing as they made plans to head towards the nearest town. Steve’s lips twitched. They would have to convince Peggy beforehand. He doubted they’d be able to convince that steel-spined dame of the necessity of leaving the camp.

Rubbing his temples, he sighed and leaned back. Steve took a deep breath. He enjoyed doing that.

The simple act of breathing had always been a struggle before the serum. So, he reveled into being able to do it without problems now. There were a lot of physical activities he liked, now that he was capable of doing them.

Other things, though, he didn’t like. Steve hadn’t liked having to perform, just because his physique allowed it. He hadn’t liked being looked at and deemed a goon, a muscled but dumb idiot. He definitely hadn’t liked everyone wanting to touch him now, even Peggy was guilty of that.

And he was still performing, wasn’t he? Just not on a stage and with real stakes. Whatever script he followed, the consequences wouldn’t be make-believe like punching that Hitler-actor. No, he was performing and the tickets to every show, every battle, were the lives of his men, his own life, and, most importantly, Bucky’s life.

“Settling into that leadership role nicely, ain’t ya, pal?”

Steve’s eyes snapped open and focused on Bucky. Neither had Steve noticed that he had closed his eyes nor had he noticed Bucky staying behind. Bucky looked delectable, too.

That blue jacket complimented Bucky’s eyes nicely, the different-hued blues in the threads bringing out the storm in Bucky. He was throwing a smirk at Steve, arms crossed. One thing that worried Steve, though, was Bucky’s gauntness.

All of the commandos had been stripped of almost their entire muscle mass and meat when Steve had rescued them. But the last one and a half years had served them well. They had built up their muscles again through fighting and exercising. They all looked the part of proper soldiers.

Except Bucky. Bucky still remained as thin as a rake. He put on a little muscle and meat but not much. In fact, if Steve didn’t know better, he’d have thought that he had rescued Bucky two weeks ago and not almost two years.

Stubborn jerk rejected any additional food Steve offered him, too. Bucky always drawled that Steve needed it more now. Steve needed a lot more of nourishment and at least he had the stomach for that now, Bucky teased again and again. In the end, Steve’s attempt to get more food into Bucky had ended in the Commandos and Bucky himself giving Steve more food.

“Wanna trade, jerk?” Steve finally answered before adding, “Have you eaten? Want a snack?”

“Oh, quit your yapping, you overgrown doggie.” Bucky rolled his eyes, getting up and ambled towards Steve.

It wasn’t possible anymore for Steve’s heart to just give in. When Bucky spoke or moved in a certain way, though, Steve swore it almost felt like it  _ could _ .

“I’m not gonna trade with you, punk. You wanted the war, now you got it.” Bucky threw himself into the chair besides Steve and their knees knocked together. “Besides, I’ve heard  _ rumors _ about the Howling Commandos. They’re wild wolves and the worst one is their leader. Only a crazy man would try taming them.”

“When can I expect your application?”

They stared at each other. It didn’t take them long to crack and start laughing until they were giggling, their sides folded against each other.

“You ain’t called me crazy, pal, did you? If so, know it’s your fault.”

“Nah, pal. You were crazy before I juiced up.”

Bucky hummed. It was a dismissive sort of hum as though he wanted to make a comment but thought he shouldn’t. Steve had heard it often enough when he had ranted about injustices he could do nothing about.

“What?”

When Bucky turned his head to Steve, Bucky’s heart rate spiked. Steve could feel it through the spot their knees touched, even through the clothing. He could also hear it. He would never tell Bucky that, though.

“So, you’re not a stick, anymore. Got dancing with some pretty gals? Or no, you’re stuck on Mountain Kitty, aren’t you?” Bucky’s heart was literally galloping but his face showed nothing but a teasing smile and twinkling eyes.

Before the serum, Steve had never realized how good of a poker face Bucky had. He had also never wanted to wonder how often Bucky had hid things from Steve and pretended everything was alright. Judging from how often Bucky’s heart raced with no one being the wiser, Steve believed the answer to be a lot. Shell-shock couldn’t be the only reason.

“Oi, Stevie, you’re good? Should I get you something to nibble on?”

Steve blinked before shaking his head. “Nah, Buck, just lost my heads in the cloud for a bit. Still can’t dance.”

“Such big feet now and you  _ still _ can’t? Geez, what did they bother teaching you?” Bucky jutted his elbow into Steve’s side. Steve yelped at the fleeting pain.

“Oh, I don’t know. I guess the Army thought it more important to teach me about weapons and strategy. Their mistake. They  _ should  _ have taught me to put my feet together in totally useless ways.”

The answer Steve expected was an eye roll and a comment about what a snarky asshole he could be. The answer he actually received was far more worrying. Bucky grinned wide enough that Steve saw the chipped tooth in the back of his mouth. (Steve remembered how Bucky had got that. It was one of the few times he’d been beaten down alongside Steve instead of defeating the bullies Steve had challenged.)

“Didn’t mean the army. Those girls you were traveling with. I bet they figured out swift that you ain’t a canary.”

Was his face still whole or was it melting off his bones from embarrassment, Steve wondered. Then he grimaced as that thought called up images of a red face with cheek bones jutting out.

Bucky was wearing an amused smirk that widened at his grimace. He must have thought that Steve’s grimace was due to his implications. Steve chose to let Bucky believe that but pushed him lightly.

Well, Steve thought it was lightly but Bucky shrieked as he landed ass-first onto the ground.

Bursting out in loud laughter couldn’t be helped. Steve laughed for even longer when Bucky pouted and crossed his arms. Instead of getting up, though, Bucky looked up to him and pulled his lips forward. This was a deadly combination. Add to that Bucky’s patented puppy eyes and Steve was dead as a mouse.

“Shut it, jerk. Yeah, no, I just needed to strut forward, say a couple of lines and the dames did all the work.” They had, in fact, tried to make Steve sing exactly once. To be fair, Steve had never tried to sing particularly well.

“No man shouldn’t be able to dance.” Of course, Bucky would think like that.

“Ain’t that true love, Buck.”

“Help me up,” Bucky suddenly said. He uncrossed his arms and waved his left hand in front of Steve. Steve didn’t even think of not doing it. But he should have expected Bucky to pull a stunt.

Using Steve’s help to pull himself up, Bucky got to his feet. Then he yanked Steve to his feet as well and stepped back. Since they were still holding hands, Steve was forced to stumble after him. One look into Bucky’s smirking face told Steve what he had planned.

“Oh no, not again, Buck. It’s never worked before in teaching me,” Steve groaned. “Besides, I’m bigger than you now. Bigger!”

“Ha! We don’t know that. You don’t shower with us, for all I know I’m still the bigger one.”

Steve groaned again at Bucky’s deliberate misconstruing of his words.

“This way it might finally stick. I can take the girl’s part.”

Bucky tugged Steve towards him. If he had wanted to, Steve could have dug his heel in and refused to be moved. He didn’t. Instead he melted against Bucky’s frame, Bucky’s shoulders lining up with Steve’s collarbones.

They just stood there like that, wrapped around each other like lovers. Steve’s heat couldn’t take that. “Now what?”

“Hmm,” Bucky began, breathing against Steve’s neck and causing goosebumps to rise. “Let me think about it ...” His voice trailed off.

Bucky’s heart lurched forward without warning. Bucky’s chest moved against Steve as Bucky swallowed a couple of times. His fingers started tippling against Steve’s nape as Bucky settled his hand there.

All these signs pointed towards Bucky being nervous. Before Steve could ask what was wrong, Bucky nudged them forward. They started swaying around the tent, dodging the table and the chairs. That didn’t leave much space for them but enough for them to circle the war table.

After their first two steps, Bucky had started humming a song. Steve didn’t know the song. (He was glad about that – he had been half-afraid Bucky would start singing that horrid Captain America theme song.)

Bucky was only humming the song but it was a slow, soulful one. It fitted their pace. They circled through the tent with slow, intimate steps. This wasn’t a dance you’d take a girl to for the first time – it wasn’t the sweeping arches of playful first dances. This, this was a dance in which you pressed yourself close to your partner because you loved them, because you wanted to be near them.

Already, Steve could hardly breathe. And then, then Bucky started singing from the back of his heart, his voice quivering with emotion.

“… I had the craziest dream last night, yes I did. I never dreamt it could be, yet there you were …”

Licking his lips and drawing a deep breath, Bucky forced them to a stop. He looked up to Steve again, their faces closer than they had been at the beginning of the dance. He obviously was steeling himself, his eyes liquid silver.

Steve was enraptured with those eyes.

“… Yet there you were, in love with me, I found your lips so close to mine so I kissed you … and you didn’t mind at all.”

Bucky leaned forward, their lips almost touching. He stopped and waited.

For what? Steve didn’t know but he was frozen in the moment, unwilling to break it or ruin it in any way. What was Bucky waiting for?

Then Steve realized what Bucky was waiting for. Once again, it was too late, though, as Bucky pulled back, silver turning into stormy seas.

Still, Bucky smiled and drew even further away and out of Steve’s arms. He patted Steve’s cheeks once. “There you go, let your dame lead you and you’re set. Till tomorrow, we’re going to need the energy to capture a doctor, who went bananas, before he busts outta the base.”

He turned around and with long steps walked out of the tent.

By not acting Steve had ruined the moment. He swayed on the spot, his heart skipping beats. If Steve wasn’t misinterpreting this … Bucky might …

Steve swallowed. After the mission he would talk to Bucky, And call him punch-drunk or slap-happy, but Steve believed that he might get a chance to kiss Bucky and love him and be loved by him.

With a silly grin on his face, he looked forward to it.

[\- +](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=2w5KNm1LQ78) [1 -](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=_k81_ZcBA9c)

Yasha wasn’t hers anymore, maybe he never had been, Natasha thought with half-lidded eyes. Theirs had been a relationship born of manipulation, use, lust and naive love, back when Natasha had still known what it was. Sometimes she regretted that. Not necessarily the sex but the connection with someone more dangerous than her during one of human’s most carnal acts.

Not that Yasha acted or appeared particularly dangerous nowadays. Exhibit A: their current situation.

Movie night had just ended – well, the movie had finished playing. It was just about to hit the hour in which Baba Yaga liked to conduct their businesses.

(One of her handlers used to tell her that. By now she knew it meant midnight but she preferred the metaphor. Natasha had the choice of doing that. Decades after escaping the Red Room and she still reveled in her ability to choose.)

Bruce had left the communal living room almost an hour before the movie had finished. He had mumbled something about time-sensitive experiments he had forgotten. Which was a bold lie for someone that couldn’t lie and was green around his face. Not Hulk-green either. It seemed Bruce had no stomach for bloody movies or at least not with a lot of death.

Clint had excused himself soon after the movie ended, claiming that he had to call Laura. However, judging from the fact that Sam hurried to jump up and insisted on accompanying Clint, it seemed that Clint and Laura had opened their bed to another person again. Midnight was not a time Laura was up anymore, not with taking care of the kids.

That still left Tony in a chair which honestly seemed to be a mixture between a one-man couch and a bean bag, Steve on the couch with a sketch pad, and Yasha on the same couch and with his head on Steve’s lap. Yasha was rolled onto his side and nuzzled into Steve’s thighs, acting like a tamed house cat.

Natasha’s lips curled. As much as a wild animal can look like a tame pet. Of course, Yasha gave it his best shot by pulling up his hair in messy buns, carrying no visible weapons beyond his arm and always dressing like he preferred comfort over style and functionality. None of these detracted from his deadliness in any way. It just made him appear less dangerous to the civilian public.

But it just made him even more dangerous to anyone with a hint of spy training. The skill to make himself seem that unassuming to the general masses while still being acknowledged as a skilled fighter was nothing to sneeze at, distortion of the truth at its finest.

Yet, in the vicinity of his Captain, Yasha dialed his dangerous qualities back, as though Steve couldn’t deal with it. It made Natasha want to bite down on bullets sometimes. Steve was the leader of the Avengers. He dealt with Iron Man, Thor (not recently as he was on vacation with Dr. Forster) and the  _ Hulk _ on a regular basis. Steve could deal with danger.

At least, those two had finally stopped tiptoeing around each other. Even Tony had groaned at their delicate handling of each other’s feelings and Tony had disdained Yasha in the beginning of his stay.

(Natasha shuddered to think what would have happened, had Steve not told Tony everything that happened  _ during _ SHIELD’s fall  _ immediately after _ it had happened. Their hard-earned friendship might have shattered. As it was, Tony had enough time to grapple with his parents’ death and conclude whose fault it really was.)

The domesticity of the whole scene evoked two kinds of feeling within Natasha – suspicion and contentment.

Of course, the atmosphere had to be broken by something happening. This time it had happened to be something hitting the windows of the tower at full speed. Natasha vaulted from her seat and crouched onto a chair, next to her Yasha settled with eyes fixed on the left side of the room. She heard the whirling of repulsors coming to life behind her and Steve’s breath falling to nearly inaudible levels.

When the window was popped up and a figure in red, blue and black crawled through it, they all sacked down. The tension had drained out of the room by the time Spiderman’s feet hit the floor.

Spiderman ripped off his mask, revealing Peter with flushed cheeks and twinkling eyes.

“Mr. Stark, Mr. Stark!” Peter shot forward to orbit around Tony, continuing to chant his name until Tony laid his hand over the teen’s mouth. His hand still was covered in an Iron Man gauntlet.

“Kid, first, down with you, boy.” Tony stared at Peter until he was only vibrating in his spot instead of swaying from one side to the other.

Steve sat back down on the couch, chuckling underneath his breath, followed by Yasha. Natasha stayed where she was. Knowing the little spider, someone would have to move for one reason or the other.

“Never, ever,  _ ever _ enter the Tower like this again, Kid. Not only did you give each of us half a heart attack – the old men here really can’t take a heart attack, they’re over a hundred, they’d die.” Tony ignored Yasha’s mumbled  _ Fuck you _ . “I almost put a hole through your suit. That suit’s expensive, Kiddo.”

What an amusing statement. Tony usually didn’t care about the cost of anything. Also, anyone having spent more than ten minutes with Tony while in Peter’s presence knew that Tony would rather turn into a pauper than hurt Peter.

Shrugging Tony’s hand off, Peter started bouncing through the room. “I need help!” His eyes didn’t stay on Tony but also flickered over to Steve, Yasha and her. “It’s important!”

“Can’t it wait till tomorrow?”

“It’s not like you’re going to bed now, Mr. Stark. Besides, I knew tonight was Movie Night.”

While Tony was gasping in mock offense, Natasha chuckled and Steve outright laughed. The kid knew Tony.

“Another sassing like that and I won’t help you,” Tony threatened, wriggling his fingers in front of Peter’s face.

Of course, Peter spent entirely too much time with Tony and adopted some of his habits. Like taking an entire arm when the nail of the pinky finger alone had been offered. “So, you all will help me?”

“Depends, “Steve cut in with an indulging smile on his face. Natasha understood that. While Peter had imprinted on Tony, he had managed to squeeze his way into the hearts of all Avengers. Generally, if they could help him, they would.

Another amusing sight was the mock offense on Tony’s face turn into real one when Peter turned his back on Tony and skipped over to Steve. Natasha hid a smile under her hands. Knowing Tony, there was going to be a prank war going to be waged soon. Enemy Number One: Captain America. Yasha would probably be dragged into it, too.

“So, you all told me I need to do something besides science and math in school, right?” Peter began, running one of his hands through his hair.

Natasha’s eyes narrowed. This was one of Peter’s nervous habits.

“So, so, I did! I joined the newspapers club. I mean, I could have rejoined marching band but … eh, didn’t feel like it, mostly because my senses are better now. Loud noises and better hearing? Nu-hu, not good together. I’d have yeeted myself out of the window before the first session even finished-”

“Peter,” Yasha sighed, though he was also wearing a small smirk. “Focus.”

“Oh, right. So I’ve joined the newspapers club and our first assignment was to make a filmed interview by tomorrow. The name of it should be ‘Secret Skills’ and yeah … “ Peter trailed off.

And oh, Natasha was proud. Peter had ducked his head low and was angling it upward, eyes wide and shiny. He wrapped his arms around himself and was also nibbling on his lip. This was manipulation at its finest. You’d think a couple of superhero wouldn’t fall for such a blatant display but Natasha saw that Steve and Tony already had fallen for it.

She rolled her eyes as Yasha coughed to hide a chuckle.

“Filmed?” Natasha prompted Peter, her eyes wandering up and down his suit. Blushing, he immediately stripped out of it. “And what do you plan to film this with?”

“Oh,” Peter wheezed out, his entire posture sacking. “Phone. I forgot that.”

Tony snorted. “Oh, so you forgot the most important thing for filming an interview, no deal.” However, when Peter pouted at him, Tony just smiled and shook his head. “Relax, Kiddo. I’ll ask FRIDAY to record this from her many, many cameras. She’ll send it to your phone and then you have it. Editing’s probably part of the assignment, right?”

Now Tony was stretching it in Natasha’s opinion. But seeing Peter’s unsure face lighten up into a beaming grin deterred her from expressing it. While editing might have been part of the assignment, she doubted anyone else had a millionaire with an AI at their disposal to make it easier.

“Start whenever with the video. Don’t worry about angles. My girl will take care of it, won’t you?”

“Indeed, Boss. I’ve always wanted to stretch my creative feet, thank you so much,” Friday’s dry reply echoed through the room, making all of them but Tony snicker. Tony just shook his head muttering something about rebellious children siding against him.

“Ok, ok, let me get in character.” Peter closed his eyes and took a deep breath. Then his eyes flashed open and his grin dimmed into a smile.

“Hi, I’m Peter Parker from Midtown Tech High! How are you, peeps? Anyway, guess where I am at the moment? Can you guess it? Whoever guessed Avengers Tower, you get a billion bucks! Well, not really, I don’t got that kind of money lying around.”

Peter’s smile almost turned into a cackle when Tony called out “Well, I do.”

“I’m here tonight to interview some of the Avengers about something I’m sure everyone’s dying to know – no, not their professional lives – but any secret hobbies! Or skills, I guess. Let’s start with our resident genius, Tony Stark, everyone!”

“Gee, Kiddo, what an introduction.” Tony rolled his eyes again, his back a bit stiffer than it usually would be in their living room. Peter grinned back without a hint of remorse. “Okay, let’s see, secret skill.”

After a couple of minutes, Tony still hadn’t said anything more, so Peter nudged him a little.

“Hey, Kiddo, it’s hard to think about what the public knows about my skills or not. I mean, I’ve been in the public eye since before I was even born. I guess, something I can tell you, but not prove, is that I’m actually good at knitting.”

Natasha blinked. She wouldn’t have expected Tony to know a skill like that. The others were more explosive in their astonishment.

“Really, Stark? You know how to knit?!” Yasha gasped, getting out of Steve’s lap to sit up and stare at Tony. Steve nodded in agreement. Their only response was Tony throwing them a glare.

“But knitting’s such a pain!” was Peter’s only comment before he turned towards Natasha.

“I cannot boast such an essential skill,” Natasha said with twitching lips. She listened to Peter’s giggle for a second before pinching the skin between her thumb and pointing finger. Looking down, she grinned. “What I can boast, is this.” And then Natasha proceeded to bend back her fingers until they looked like they were laying flat on the back of her hand.

She positively reveled in Tony’s yelled “Cross” and Steve’s almost invisible flinch. Curiously enough, Peter didn’t blink an eye at her actions. She had thought that display would make him freak.

He smiled back at her, lifted his hands and did the same thing. Natasha laughed while Tony gagged in the background.

“Hmm.” Yasha tipped his finger against his shin. “I’d have thought you’d go with ballet.”

“Well, flexibility and stamina is expected of me and not exactly a secret skill. Besides, I thought you’d like to cover that.”

“You can do ballet?!” Peter turned to Yasha, eyes big and wide again. Huh, Peter seemed interested … Her next birthday present to him would be ballet lessons. They could only help.

“I can. But nah, if it’s a secret skill, and a dance …” Yasha’s voice tapered off and a glint of mischievous stole into his face. “I’d prefer something I never did in public before. Stevie?”

Ignoring Tony’s “When did you do ballet in public?”, Yasha turned towards Steve and tilted his head.

“Really, jerk? You’re gonna do that on camera?”

Yasha chuckled. “Yeah, will you let me?”

“Always.” And both the super soldiers stood up and walked around the table to where they had more space.

While Yasha was wrapping his arms around Steve, he started to hum. Slowly, they started to sway from one side to the other and Natasha realized what they were doing. Slow-dancing, they were slow-dancing to the soft, melancholic tune of Yasha’s humming.

Their love came alive between them, the space between them filled with a sensual air. As they revolved around each other, they seemed to have forgotten that they weren’t the center of the universe. Although judging from the sappy smile Steve aimed at Yasha, he thought Yasha  **was** the planet everything in the universe orbited around.

Natasha hardly dared to breathe. Her eyes flickered over to Tony and Peter – they were in the same predicament.

The tension reached its peak when Yasha started to croon the lyrics. Friday, without being asked to, started playing a low melody matching the tune. Yasha leaned up and sang into Steve’s ears. “… You'd be so nice, you'd be paradise, to come home to and love.”

They slowed to a stop, staring into each other’s eyes.

Natasha could have killed Tony when he coughed once, loudly, unmistakably to break the couple apart.

Steve hissed in a sharp breath and Yasha backed down, leaning away from Steve. But before Yasha retreated completely, Steve darted forward and pressed a simple peck to Yasha’s lips. He also kept holding onto Yasha.

“Peter, you also want to find out a skill almost no one knows I have?” Steve’s cheeks were flushed, eyes a blue brighter than the fireworks on the 4 th of July.

“Uh,” Peter flailed, caught off guard. “Yeah, yeah, that’d be nice.”

Nodding once, Steve spoke to Friday. “Cue the music to that song, Friday. You know which one.”

“Wait,” Yasha breathed, still in Steve’s arms, and then laughed. “Don’t tell me you’re gonna sing for me, Stevie? You ain’t no canary, we’ve known that since 1941.”

Shaking his head, Steve just waved for Friday to start the music. He adjusted his hold on Yasha, making it looser.

That wasn’t a slow-dancing posture. Natasha narrowed her eyes. It more seemed like the beginning stance for a jazz dance.

And then the music started and Steve led Yasha around the room. This dance was a lot more energetic but just as intimate between the two. Instead of a sensual, romantic air, however, passion and desire and carnal want bubbled up between them.

When Steve started singing, Natasha was blown away. His voice was pleasantly breathy, deep but not too deep, and almost like it was made for the playful song. Yasha looked just as surprised, and entirely enchanted.

At one point, Steve almost howled the lyrics and threw his head back, laughing. He still kept one hand on Yasha but almost swung them across the room with quick steps. By the time he began the next stanza, Steve had pulled Yasha back to his chest and dipped down his head to whisper across Yasha’s lips.

“I never made love by lantern-shine,I never saw rainbows in my wine. But now that your lips are burning mine, I'm beginning to see the light.” The dance slowed down and for the rest of their dance, Steve kept kissing Yasha.

Once the last note had faded, Steve and Yasha stopped moving, entangled together and breathing in each other.

Natasha noticed from the corner of her eyes that Tony was opening his mouth. She lunged over the couch and slapped her hand over his voice before a sound could escape his lips. Tony wouldn’t ruin another moment for those two.

Unfortunately, Peter’s yelped shriek at her fast movement had the same effect Tony’s words would have had.

Steve and Yasha broke apart and turned towards them. Steve was flushed, red splotches all over his cheeks, while Yasha was barely panting. For Yasha, though, that was a gigantic slip.

“S-so,” Steve coughed once before trying again with a stronger voice. “So, was that okay?”

“Y-yeah, thank you, Captain Rogers! You too, Sergeant Barnes. Thank you for showing off secret skills!”

“Son, how often have I told you to call me Steve?”

Yasha hacked out a shaky laugh when Peter blushed to the tips of his ears. He also slapped Peter on the shoulder. “I’ll have to thank you, Pete. I didn’t know this lump could actually sound better than a duck on its deathbed.”

When Steve protested that description, they started wrestling – and once again, they forgot that they weren’t the only people existing.

Natasha smiled softly. Good for them. They deserved that happiness, the happiness of being genuinely in love and together without hiding.

She urged Tony and Peter out of the room. Tony and her both waved off Peter, who had kept thanking them as well.

“Want to know something, Nat?” Tony suddenly said as they kept their eyes on the dot swinging towards Queens.

“Hm?”

“Cap  **couldn’t** sing. When he started living here, I mean.”

“Oh?” Natasha questioned, one eyebrow going up.

“Nope. It’s how we bonded. You remember him moping around those first few days?” After Natasha nodded, Tony continued. “I talked to him and he broke down. Barnes had just died for him. He didn’t know how to go on.”

Tony paused, sighing, as he closed his eyes and leaned his forehead against cold glass.

Back then, Natasha had noticed something was off with Captain America. Of course, she had; she was one of the best spies SHIELD had had to offer. But she hadn’t known what had been bothering him.

But she had also noticed when Steve had started becoming better – or rather when he had actually become Steve instead of Captain America all the time. Since the timing had coincided with his and Tony’s blooming friendship, Natasha had always suspected that there was some connection.

“He slipped, telling me about his feelings for Barnes … I got through to him by asking if Barnes would have wanted him to kill himself, directly or indirectly. I also advised him to do or learn something which made him feel closer to Barnes.”

Once more, Tony hesitated before shrugging his shoulders. “He chose singing and dancing, like I chose knitting when I was mourning Mom.”

“So you’re the person who knew about those skills?” Natasha murmured to him.

“Yeah. But – this is the first time I’ve heard him sing that song. Considering FRIDAY knew what song he meant, Steve must have been practicing. Yet before that, with me he only sang one song.”

When Tony fell silent for longer than five minutes, Natasha gently checked her hips against his. “Which song?”

Tony cleared his throat twice before singing in a slightly scratching voice. “You'll never know just how much I miss you, you'll never know just how much I care … You'll never know just how much I love you, you'll never know just how much I care...”

“This is a beautiful song,” Natasha said after Tony finished singing.

“It’s a sad song,” Tony corrected. “But for those two … it was also proven wrong. They found each other and let each other know how much they love each other.”

**Author's Note:**

> Each part has at least one song attached to it:  
> I -[ Five Foot Two, Eyes of Blue by Art Landry ](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=xqYJjA4aYXM)  
> II - [Blue Skies by George Olsen](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=e4YaF-jESkY)  
> III - [Devil May Care by Frank Sinatra](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=dbIyrjVvA2o)  
> IV - [Snootie Little Cutie by Frank Sinatra](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=IJt9PU9rC04)  
> V - [ I had the craziest dream by Harry James and his Orchestra ](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=CeE1RnXJDiI)  
> +1 has two and one song (I’m going to explain that in a minute)  
> Song sung by Bucky: [You’d be so nice to come home to by Dinah Shore](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=2w5KNm1LQ78)  
> Song sung by Steve: [I’m beginning to see the light by Ella Fitzegerald ](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=_k81_ZcBA9c)(the original version of that song was created in the 40s but she sang it in the 60s)  
> The song Tony sings at the end is where the name of the fic comes from. It’s [ You’ll Never Know by Vera Lynn ](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=JZtWNlCTc6o)  
> Thank you for reading this! I hope you like this.


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